Sow The Wind, Reap The Whirlwind
by SylvieT
Summary: Almost post-ep for 13.11 Dead Air. No spoilers for the case itself, just for the pitiful state of GSR at this juncture. Sara and DB talk in his office just before Grissom's phone call at the end. Grissom and GSR by proxy.


A/N: Another snow day! No mush this time. I haven't watched the episode yet, but I caught spoilers for the final scene of 13.11 _Dead Air_ on the internet and it gave birth to this. This conversation between Sara and Russell takes place directly before Grissom's phone call at the end. The one she picked up. The one where he talked. God, how I miss him and his voice…

This situation they're in now reminds me of season 9, only in reverse. Hence the title. I wish we had Grissom's POV in all this and see what's going on with him. I'd like to think that DB Russell could, in some manner, be Sara's Lady Heather. I strongly believe that she had a hand in getting Grissom to face up to his feelings and go after Sara. See the very first story I ever wrote called, _Why Don't You Stay_. Maybe Russell can do the same with Sara.

Some dialogue gratefully borrowed from the episode itself and isn't mine. You'll recognise it. Some more is taken from 9.02 _The Happy Place_ and 9.05 _Leave_ _Out_ _All_ _The_ _Rest_. You'll recognise that too.

* * *

Sow The Wind, Reap The Whirlwind.

* * *

Sara stood in DB's office, leaning against his desk when he walked in. To anyone happening past the open door she looked to be watching the news. She wasn't. Her thoughts were truly and firmly fixed on Grissom and the state of her marriage. There was an overwhelming sadness to her these days she wasn't able to shake. Once again, just thinking about it, she found herself on the verge of tears. She felt sick, sick to her stomach, and powerless to act, helpless to find a way out of the quagmire.

DB touched her on the arm as he walked past, and she startled. Looking up to him she gave a wan smile. "You were miles away there, Sara," he remarked lightly as he moved behind his desk, dumping a stack of files on it. "You're okay?"

She was about to reply that she was fine, that it was just the case still playing on her mind when she made the mistake of turning toward him. The quiet concern in his features as he stared back expectantly was her undoing. Her smile fading, she shook her head in reply and turned her face away toward the flickering images on the television screen. Pretending she was fine suddenly seemed an unsurpassable mountain, certainly more than she was capable of at this moment in time. She was tired, tired of the pretence, and terribly weary, drained even, as though all the strength had been sucked out of her.

Russell moved round the desk. His eyes were narrowed, concerned and tender. "Well," he said with a half-smile and catching her eye perched himself on the edge of the desk next to her. He crossed his arms over his chest and bumped her shoulder affectionately. "Shift is over and I don't have anywhere to be."

Sara returned his smile weakly. "I think Grissom and I are going to form part of the forty per cent of couples that don't make it." She hated the self-pity in her voice but the words had been out before she could censor them or her tone. She didn't regret them though, and found herself waiting for his reply, his counsel.

Russell stared at her, his expression pained, and nodded his head. "Where's he at this time?"

"What does it matter where he's at?" she replied in a despondent scoff, grateful he wasn't trying to play her situation down. "He's not here."

Sara looked away but his stare was penetrating, gently coaxing her into opening up further and sharing her deepest fears and grievances.

"You want to get out of here?" he said in a bright voice. "Grab some breakfast?" He paused and nudged her shoulder again. "Something stronger maybe?"

She gave him a grateful smile but shook her head. "I'm tired; I'm going to head home."

Russell's eyes averted to the television as he nodded his understanding. He focused his attention on the action on the screen and Sara wondered whether that was her cue to leave. If it was, she was disappointed. "Is it about that guy?" he asked suddenly, looking round over at her and holding her gaze meaningfully.

Sara played dumb but she knew exactly who he was talking about. Could Finn have spoken to him about it? "What guy?" she asked in a frown.

Russell turned around, scanning the top of his desk for the remote, and muted the sound. "The NTSB guy. You know, your friend from San Francisco. Doug, was it? You've kind of been…unsettled ever since that case, ever since he came here. I mean, more so than before."

Sara gave out a long breath. Her shoulder rose, and she gave his observation some thought. Then it occurred to her what he was thinking. "Nothing happened," she said suddenly, needing him to know she wasn't weak or the kind of woman who would cheat on her husband simply because she was unhappy.

"Oh, I know that, Sara. I wasn't implying it did. It's just that I couldn't help noticing..." His shoulder rose and he lifted his hand, waving it about, searching for the right words, "I don't know. There seemed to be a spark there, between the two of you. You can't deny that."

Sara pinched her lips uncomfortably and looked away. No, she couldn't deny that some of the old spark was still there. After all this time and even though he knew she was married, Doug had shown some interest in her and she couldn't deny that she'd felt flattered by the attention and attracted to his easy, carefree manner. She couldn't deny she missed human contact and affection either, a man's touch. There had been promise in his dinner invitation, and that was the reason she'd turned him down. It wasn't Doug's touch she craved, or any other man's for that matter, it was her husband's.

"Nothing happened," she repeated, meeting her supervisor's eyes dead on lest he had any lingering doubts.

He gave her a grave nod. "But you were tempted."

Sara briefly considered his words, then shook her head confidently. "No," she denied, "I wasn't tempted. I love Gil. I―"

Russell's hand lifted to her shoulder. "Hey," he soothed, "I know you do. You don't have to justify your behaviour to me. I was merely playing devil's advocate here." He paused before adding in a sigh, "You know, if you need some time off work…" His shoulder lifted. "Go be with him, for a while. We can cope without you." A smile tugged at his lips. "It'll be hard, but we'll manage."

His light-heartedness and kindness raised a smile. "Thank you. But what difference would it make? I'd come back and we'd be back to square one."

_A relationship in stasis withers, _echoed through her head. _You get angry. You need more that the safety of knowing you're not alone. _Her eyes darted about the office, remembering the exact moment Grissom had uttered those words to her, a lifetime ago it seemed. Her lips pinched with growing anxiety. These words had haunted her for a long time and had been the catalyst for that desperate video message she'd sent him. How could they be back to that stage in their relationship? Her feeling of helplessness returned, all-encompassing in its intensity.

"You'd be able to talk," Russell was now saying, refocusing her, "face to face. Without distractions or time differences."

Sara gave a sigh, nodding, then an empty laugh.

"What's funny?" he asked gravely.

She turned toward him and sighed. "I was just thinking about…you and Barbara. I mean, if she hadn't come back from Seattle, would you have stayed here or gone back to be with her?"

Russell's shoulder lifted as he pondered his reply. He took in and let out a long breath. "Honestly, Sara?" He shrugged. "I don't know. I'd like to think it wouldn't have come to that."

"And it didn't."

"No, it didn't," he agreed quietly. "But you can't compare me and Barbara to you and Grissom. I mean, for starters, we got kids and thirty-five years of history behind us…" Swallowing her discomfort Sara dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry," he then said, "I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"I know."

"All relationships, all marriages are different. Not so long ago you told me that what you and Grissom have works for you. What's changed?"

"I don't know," she replied in a sad smile. "All I know is that he and I have spent more time apart from each other than together since we got married. And that's not a life. Or a marriage, let alone a relationship."

"You two love each other," Russell argued and gave her a reassuring smile. "You'll figure it out."

"Sometimes love isn't enough."

There was a pause. "What about an extended leave of absence?" Russell tried again.

Her shoulder lifted. Her mouth opened but she had no reply for him, no solution, no ready fix.

His gaze became probing, earnest and she knew she wouldn't like where he was headed next. "You once told me that he left here to be with you when you couldn't be here anymore. What you've got to ask yourself, Sara, and maybe that's what he's asking of you, is…would you do the same for him?"

Sara's gaze lowered. "I don't know," she said at last, and looked up. "I don't know if I could." She felt tears rise, prickling the back of her eyes. "And that's answer in itself, isn't it?" She sighed. "Vegas is my home," she went on earnestly. "Five years ago when I left I thought that, I _really_ believed that I'd never set foot in the place again. That if I did, I would just self-destruct. But I have…and I love my work here, my life here. I just wish Gil was here to share it with me, and he can't be."

"Catch 22, huh?" DB's hand lifted to her shoulder and he patted it emphatically. "You'll work it out. You just need to…sit down and talk, but not in front of a computer screen."

He was right, of course, but she didn't think she was strong enough for a confrontation. "I wish I had your confidence," she said.

On the television, the news report changed to that of their case, refocusing her briefly. A picture of the victim filled the screen and grabbing the remote Russell turned the volume back on.

Sara's phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket, knowing even before checking the display that the caller would be her husband. Russell clicked the sound on the television off, then caught her eye and as he left gave her a silent look that understood and said so much about what she was going through.

Would taking some time off and spending a couple of weeks with her husband really make a difference at this stage, she wondered? Would it – _could_ it – help them work through their marriage issues, or would it just be a stopgap measure, a repair patch that would only postpone the inevitable and prolong the suffering?

With a sigh and a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach she connected the call and brought the phone to her ear. "Hello," she said in a quiet, sad voice, her greeting almost resigned and defeated. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"You're hard to get a hold of," he said. The reproach in his voice didn't go unnoticed.

"Yeah. I'm so sorry. How are you?"

"I'm okay," he replied, and he sounded it. It was like he'd already made the decision. The feeling of dread intensified. "Is now a good time?"

His question gave her pause and the words she'd spoken to him through the video message replayed in her head. And all she could think of at that moment was that she only had herself to blame for the state of her relationship with Grissom, that she'd brought this situation on herself.

_I wish that we could talk in person, but this is the best I can do. I want to apologise for being out of touch. I have been thinking about us a lot though…all the moments. I thought we could survive anything._

_Before I left you said something I tried not to hear but now I…I think you were right. If a relationship can't more forward it withers. I've been waiting for you to decide, but sometimes not making a decision is making a decision._

_Anyway, what I'm trying to say is ... you don't have to worry about me anymore. I'm good. I'm really good. And honestly? I think it's better this way._

Would there ever be a good time for what he had to tell her?


End file.
